By Fate or Design
by Ariella Forverrr
Summary: On the last day of her vacation, Ginny Weasley wanders into a shop where she catches the eye of a charming Harry Potter. His smile wins her over and he invites her for one last night out before she goes back home. Will she give in and enjoy her night in the arms of a stranger, or go back to London without a second glance?


Ginny Weasley loved wearing hats. They hid her fiery red hair, enabling her to become just another presumed brunette or blonde with brown eyes. People looked straight past her when she wore them and, she was grateful for it, she got enough attention back home because of it with her career elevating her to B list celebrity status.

But Los Angeles, California demanded that Ginny wear out her hair. The sun beamed down on her head steaming up her scalp under the hat and despite her hesitance she walked down the busy street with her baseball cap tucked into her back pocket and hair billowing behind her. She supposed she'd have to count on her jean shorts and plain white t-shirt to make her fade into the background among all the Malibu Barbies.

She'd been in LA for two weeks already, soaking up the different culture and enjoying the life of the city. England was home, sure, but sometimes she needed an escape from the madness that was her job, and the reporters and overzealous fans that came with it. Ginny _had_ been training her ass off lately to prepare for the upcoming match in a month, against the Montrose Magpies who've won the league cup 32 times. Who could blame her for wanting some time away to relax and recuperate before the big game?

Ever since she was a teen, Ginny had dreamed of becoming a professional Quidditch player and now, just five years out of school, she was finally there. She even had a team. A _team!_ The day she joined the Holy Head Harpies was one she won't soon forget, who her idol Gwenog Jones, that she used to hang posters of in her dorm room is currently captain of. She was doing what she loved and living her dreams, it made all the ugly parts of fame worth it.

Turning to the left, Ginny came across what she'd stepped outside her hotel to see: Magical California's version of Diagon Alley. Shops lined the cobblestone street. Independently owned boutiques stuffed with gorgeous robes she'd never find anywhere else. Beautiful antique shops stacked with vintage spell books furniture supposedly collected from all the way back to the Salem Witch Trials. Tons of fellow witches bustled about with shopping bags floating behind them and children attached to their hands. A group of women walking together chatting while men watched them walk by with sly smiles on their faces. Ginny scoffed and rolled her eyes at the blatant ogling. No one in London would stare so openly at a witches's swaying hips. Not unless they wanted a hex thrown their way.

With her purse in hand, Ginny looked around to find the shop she'd been dying to see. Mostly the reason she'd even come so far across the pond to California was because it supposedly held the best Quidditch gear in the country and she was itching to test that theory out herself.

Wind blew her thick hair around her face and she impatiently held it at bay while still searching for the shop. Sweat started dribbling down her back and she was seconds away from giving up and going into one of the other stores when she caught sight of the large sign, "Lily's Sportowiec".Grinning from ear to ear, Ginny practically ran to the store front and paused, getting a look of the interior before opening the door.

Inside, men and woman and children were looking inside cases that held brooms, trying out gloves and goggles. Some already had gear in hand waiting to pay. She looked up and watched as a toy train of the Hogwarts Express made its way above the heads of customers flying about the room.

 _Perfection,_ she sighed to herself, before quickly tying her hair up and in her hat and sliding her shades on. Outside might be easier to go unnoticed but not in there where she'd be smack dab in the middle of what she's famous for. I mean there was a bloody poster of herself and her team two 10 feet away from her for Merlin's sake.

Squinting against the blaring sunbeams, Ginny took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for opening the door. After giving herself a fairly short pep talk, she grabbed the door handle and pulled. Then pulled again and again. It wouldn't budge.

"Oh." Embarrassment swarmed her cheeks and she turned pink when she saw the 'PUSH' sign hanging above the handle. She shook her head with a humiliated smile and pushed the door in, hoping that no one else spotted her show of idiocy. Ginny gasped, the noise muffled by the door 'dinging' to announce her presence. No one moved their heads to watch her enter, sighing in relief she quickly walked further in and away from the crowd of people. Peeking through the glass did nothing to prepare the young Quidditch star for what the store looked like when actually inside.

To her left a roaring purple fireplace melted into the brick wall with a few chairs situated next to it with what appeared to be tiny dragons sleeping by the hearth. An older couple grinned at her politely as she walked by in the store. No wall was bare, portraits of quidditch players and famous witches and wizards covered every inch. She walked a few more feet, stepping through a doorway and entering the larger part of the store. There was a man behind the register with short curly black hair and a somewhat mischievous smile playing at his lips as he checked a customer out. The customer's cheeks were bright red, and the brunet winked at her a sly grin starting show on his face.

Ignoring the whole thing, Ginny started looking through the shelves of equipment, trying to find anything that looked good enough to take home. Quickly, she spotted the 'Quaffle' section. Warning herself against drooling, she practically skipped to the large shelf and immediately started running her hands along them to get a fell of it. She took of her glasses and slipped them to the top of her hat to get a better look at them. Most types she's seen and played with before, but some were in designs she'd never even thought of. She pulled out a particularly sturdy and beautifully designed Quaffle and turned it over in her hands.

"Now this is a sight," an alluring voice sang. Ginny's ears perked and she snapped her head up, ignoring the pull in her neck. She frowned a mixture of confusion and irritation at the man standing in front of her with his eyebrows raised and a cheeky grin on his face. "A beautiful girl interested in Quidditch." Ginny detected the English accent straight away. She ignored the flare in her belly at the word 'beautiful.'

He had dark hair flopping above his forehead in an untamed boyish yet attractive way and a light smattering of stubble lining his square jaw. She immediately zeroed in to his eyes, behind the round glasses, they were a startlingly beautiful shade of green and she found herself narrowing her own eyes and leaning slightly forward to try and get a better look at his tinted irises. His grin widened and which made his jawline look even more chiseled. Ginny felt that heat at the pit of her stomach spread a little higher.

"Can I help you? People usually have to pay money to stare at me this long." He said smugly. Ginny had a feeling he was teasing her and tore her gaze away from his eyes, looking instead at the rest of his body. He wore a pale blue long-sleeved shirt, the round neckline not quite encircling his throat. It reached just below the hips of his worn black jeans and clung loosely to his stomach.

She didn't see the immediate outline of muscle, and then she blushed because why the hell was she staring at a stranger's stomach? Wasn't that a violation of something? _Yeah, manners. Learn some._

"Sorry," she mumbled, looking back at the quaffle in her hands. A swarm of butterflies started brushing their wings against her gut and she bit back the urge to run away from the man still standing in front of her.

He laughed sweetly. "It's no trouble. I have a handsome face, people can't help but stare."

"Gosh, you get a gold star for modesty." She raised an eyebrow and pulled back, turning her hand behind her to put the quaffle down returning it to its space on the first try. She did a quiet fist bump and smiled to herself.

"You like Quidditch, then?" He asked, ignoring her little jab. Ginny nodded her head, definitely not trusting her voice while he was watching her every movement. "Of course. I grew up with an entire family of quidditch lovers, have never missed a word cup since the day I was conceived. Even when that little shit Malfoy tried to have the entire event shut down just because his favorite team didn't make it in because they lost by a muggleborn seeker. The tosser." Cupping a hand over her mouth, she mentally chastised herself for using such a fowl language in a place of business. "I'm so sorry," she whispered through her fingers. "Sometimes my mouth runs off and forgets decorum. Bad habit."

"I have a uncle who tossed any ideals of propriety out the window and I was raised by that madman so you're alright in my eyes." He was smiling at her still and she couldn't help but smile back. He just had that kind of face, the one that drew you in and then tied you up, holding you captive. "So, you were looking at quaffles?"

Nodding her head, Ginny removed her hand. "Yeah, I heard about this store and wanted to see if I could find good gear in here. Some new gloves and goggles, maybe a new broom."

"Well you certainly came to the right place. Everything in here is top of the line material all delicately handcrafted," he sighed genuinely. "Do you actually play quidditch or are you just an avid fan?" Ginny was affronted for a second, but she heard the curiosity in his words and stopped herself from getting defensive.

"I actually play. Chaser position occasionally seeker." She said, rolling her eyes.

"Wicked, chasers are pretty hard core, they're the ones that get the crowd pretty riled up?" He had begun staring too intently at her.

Ginny laughed and looked away from his prying eyes. "I guess you can say that, though riled up is a bit of an understatement. More like fearsomely insane, though I love the energy"

"Oh really?" he chuckled. "And what caused that somewhat off putting description? Do you play for a big team?"

"Ha. _No_ ," she lied forcefully. "We're still in the little leagues, but maybe one day.…" I trailed off with what I hope he took as a wistful expression

"Did you dream of being a big time professional player when you were young?" He asked, raising his eyebrows so that his forehead creased.

Ginny scoffed. "Who didn't?" She didn't include the part about actually having accomplished that dream, she was having far too a nice conversation for it all to be ruined when he found out who she was.

"Mm, I think I probably wanted to be a player myself when I was a child. But as I got older I realized I truly wanted to become an Auror, London has a few amazing training programs." he admitted, the words adding a bashful glint to his ever-present grin.

"London, huh?" She thought back to her life there, the screaming fans, reporters and amazing team she had waiting back home, a shot of sadness swept through her.

"London," he confirmed with a small nod of his head. "Ever been?"

Sighing, Caroline bit her lip. "Yes I have, in fact, its my home. I'm just here for a mini vacation"

"No way," he exclaimed in a whisper. Ginny jerked her eyes to his, furrowing her brows in question. "Oh it's nothing, just what are the odds I guess…"

They were quiet for a moment, the man shaking his head in disbelief and Ginny looking over the beater's bats by her side.

"Sorry," he said suddenly. Ginny flitted her gaze to his. "I should probably introduce myself. The name's Harry and you are currently standing in my uncle's place of business."

Harry held out a long hand. Ginny smiled politely and took the spindly appendage. It was warm and sent a jolt up her arm. She shivered. "Ginerva, but you can call me Ginny. It's nice to meet you, Harry." She looked around them, "so, this is your uncle's?"

He let go of her hand and she felt the immediate loss. "Ginny." He smiled wider. "And yes, he moved here from England a couple years ago and started up a business, I'm just working here for the summer"

"Wow, that's cool," Ginny breathed, finding it hard to push away the urge to run a hand through his hair. She'd already caught herself looking at the tousled locks more than once.

"He let me mainly control the Quidditch section, so I'm happy." He laughed, tapping the shelf beside them lightly. "The man at the register in front is my uncle. Hey, could I give you a recommendation?"

"Yeah, of course." Ginny said a little too fast. "I mean," she started again, slower, "I would love that."

"Wonderful," he replied, his body already turned away from her and his hands reaching above his head to grab something. A patch of skin peaked under the hem of his shirt and she desperately tried to memorize the beauty of his pale back. The flesh disappeared when he rotated to face her and Ginny shook her head as if she'd been in some trance.

 _Get a hold of yourself_ _, Gin!_ She smiled up at him, hoping her blush wasn't too noticeable.

"These gloves are made out of royal dragon leather, our supplier says the man who acquired the material slew the dragon himself with with nothing more quick thinking and a dagger." he said mysteriously, raising his eyebrows for dramatic effect. He handed her a pair of very beautiful dark gold gloves.

"Is that unicorn thread?" Her eyebrows met her hairline and she delicately turned the glove over, running her thumb across the fine stitching. Without thinking, she brought the glove up to her nose and sniffed. Her eyes slid closed as her senses were overwhelmed by the scent of fresh leather and something sweet.

"You okay?" A strangely familiar English accent interrupted her sniffing session and she yanked the glove away, looking at the ground abashed.

"Uh, yeah," she said to the floor more than Harry. "Just. . .it smells nice."

"It's probably the unicorn thread, gives off a kind of aromatic smell to counter the sweat from practicing. If I weren't constantly surrounded by it, I'm sure I'd do that as well."

"You'd make it look a lot more attractive, I bet." She flinched at her choice of words and held back the urge to smack herself with the glove.

"You looked rather beautiful doing it," he chuckled smoothly, lifting a hand to run through his hair.

"Ha, thanks," she replied lamely.

"I can check you out, if you'd like. There's a register in the back no one uses." His thumb went over his shoulder.

"Check me out?" Ginny asked drunkenly. She flinched again. _What is wrong with me!_

"The glove?"

"Right."

"Wonderful." Everything was 'wonderful' with him.

He started walking away and it took Ginny a few stupid moments to realize she should follow. She grabbed the quaffle she was looking at earlier from behind her and jogged, falling in step behind him and getting a good view of the back muscles moving underneath his shirt.

 _I bet he's got a sexy back._ She thought with a raised eyebrow. Oh, God, Ginny, stop it.

"Here we are," Harry said, stopping suddenly. Ginny, who was currently blinded by images of him wet and naked in a shower, ran right into him. Stumbling forward and flailing her hands out, her fingers latched on to the fabric of his shirt as she tried to hold herself up. Harry jerked back a bit when she pulled, turning slightly to grab her elbows and yank her to her feet.

"Whoa there. Let's try to not kill us today. There's a match on tonight and I'll be damned if I miss it." Ginny could tell by the twinkle in his gorgeous eyes that he was playing with her, but she still grimaced and twisted her head away.

"Sorry," she murmured, watching him move behind the register out of the corner of her eye and fighting the flush blaring in her cheeks. "I seem to have two left feet today."

"Just today?" He quipped, holding his hands out for the equipment. She gave it to him, her body heating when the skin of his calloused hand met the smoothness of hers.

"Yeah. Maybe someone shot me with a mild jelly legs curse while I wasn't looking.." She joked.

Harry laughed, which Ginny couldn't help but slightly drool over. "I know the feeling, I was tripped and dumped my entire school lunch on my professor at school, I tell you he was not amused. Not one bit. Got two weeks detention."

Ginny started laughing with him, but then stopped when she realized she was staring too long and hoped he was too caught up in the transaction to notice. Through squinted eyes, she saw his grin widen. He noticed. If he wasn't careful, it'd split his face.

She cleared her throat, pink tinted her cheeks. "Yeah, just get me my stuff," she muttered, running a hand down her tired jaw.

Klaus stared at her things and started pressing random keys on the register. "Your total is 10 galleons."

Ginny paused and opened her mouth, saying slowly, "uh, no, I think you mean 25."

"Nope, by my calculations it's 10." he said simply, like he wasn't basically cutting the price off what should be very expensive pieces of equipment. "Besides, you were sweet to the precious only nephew of the owner here, I'm sure he'd be happy to give you a discount."

"Are you sure? I can pay full price, I have the money. I don't wanna cheat you guys out of a proper sale." She insisted. All her earnings from the Holyhead Harpies enabled her to retire early and live comfortably for the rest of her life if she wished.

"Ginny." She was in love with the way he said her name. Like it was sugar on his lips. "We're a retail store, not an auction house." She moved her wallet back. "I can't just take it."

"25 galleons is a lot of money. Especially for this store. Trust me, just take the deal. Please?"

Looking between Harry and the book, she debated with herself, quickly forming a pro/con list in her head.

Pro: _Royal_ Dragon leather, hello!

Con: You're taking it for less money than it's worth. Much, much less.

Pro: The fucking unicorn hairs are aromatic!

Con: Umm.. you shouldn't take nice things from strangers?

Pro: A really hot guy is obviously flirting with you and in an attempt to get in your good graces, he's offering you fucking priceless goods for half of what it's worth.

Con: Yeah, I got nothing.

"Okay, fine," she relented, trying to sound flustered. She could see his teeth shining with his smile. "Oh, put that away. You're blinding me." It was supposed to come out like a reprimand, but she giggled through every word. His cheeks bunched under his eyes and he looked at her through happy slits.

"I like smiling," he commented. He took her galleons with diligent hands that probably knew exactly what they were doing and packed them away in a compartment.

"I can tell," she countered. She stuck her hands out for her equipment, so she can stuff it into her beaded handbag Hermione gifted to her with an undetectable detection charm. Klaus placed them gently in her grip with a smile still plastered to his face like his lips were permanently stuck in that position. She wondered if he smiled when he kissed.

"Maybe I'll see you around, Ginny," he said lightly, jutting his chin out a bit.

She shook her head. "Don't count on it." She was leaving tomorrow.

"I'm one of those people who automatically wants to do the opposite of what someone tells me to do. So, dear Ginny, I'll be dreaming." He winked and she very nearly died right then.

Ginny turned away from him regretfully, feeling his smile burning her back as she clomped off.

When she reached the door frame leading to the lobby she looked over her shoulder. He was still behind the register, watching her intently with a crease just above his nose. She gave him a fleeting grin that just barely lifted the corners of her mouth and walked out the door, getting the direction right that time (thank God). Signaling her exit, the bell dinged; the noise almost broke her heart.

She walked out into the busy crowd, moving her sunglasses down over her eyes and once again blending seamlessly into the masses.

With only a quaffle and gloves in her possession, she strode back to her hotel. It wasn't far from the shop and when she got back up to her single-bedded room, she sat on the mattress and immediately opened her bag to empty her things to pack away. A torn piece of parchment fell out. She held it up and blinked a few times, worried for a second her eyes had suffered permanent sun damage from the hundred watt smiles Harry kept flashing her. Rubbing her fingers over her eyelids, she stared at the first page.

The sticky note was definitely there. And it definitely made her wish she wasn't leaving tomorrow morning to go back to London.

She trailed a fingernail over the piece of paper. When had he gotten the chance to do it?

Written in handsome scrawl on a yellow sticky note, there was a short message and a phone number:

 _Ginny, I'd love to see you again. I'm going to Waylan's Pub later tonight around 8.. meet me there?_

 _Harry x_


End file.
